Category:Prose

Thrill of the Chase

Nicholas Cabrera

Select: jetpack. Start matchmaking in 3… 2… 1… *boop* Deep, ominous male voice declares, “Slayer.” Jetpack over first wall. Vision impaired. I am taking heavy fire. Aim at head, four shot kill. Land. Pick up a gravity hammer, larger than…

How to Become a Musician

Peter Maltzan

  Be sure to get a guitar for one of your birthdays, the earlier the better.  (Hopefully it’s not too late for you already.)  Think it will make you cooler.  It will not.  Yet. Practice. Play along with your Pink…

Euterpe’s Lament

Changing the Way We View the World through Sound | Katherine Schimmel Baki

“I think the tools available to Beethoven to write his music were insufficient for him. He very often composed by pushing the boundary beyond the instrument available to him at the time and even beyond the reality of the music and matter. When faced with such energy, there is something irrepressible and yet, you have to deal with something tangible, something with limits of its own.” -Pianist, Helene Grimaud

The Despair of Tomatoes

Annie Sklar

My tomatoes are not cooperating. All summer, they have been weedy, leggy, spiraling in long, single stalks along the twine frames that I so thoughtfully set up for them. For hours I carefully laced lines from the porch railing to…

Boys and Girls

Dave Lee

“…Flat 9’s and sharp 11’s are the shit, especially on bass.” It’s painful hearing that, it truly is. It’s freshman year, I’m sitting in the Berklee caf eating alone, my girlfriend in Wisconsin and I have called it quits, and…

Louie Legendary

Greg Vogt

They always tell you that making a good first impression means everything, but if there is one thing I have learned since moving to Boston, it’s that first impressions often mean nothing.  I’ll be the first to admit that I…

Someone to Sing To

Kelsey Worley

  It was a gloomy, quiet morning in Harvard Square, and as I waited for Felix’s Shoe Repair to open, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching me.  I looked around, searching for a pair of eyes that…

Demeter

Rosemary Hilliard

The skeletal silhouettes of naked birch trees scratched against the window, creaking audibly in a cool, autumnal breeze.  Vast, yellow tendrils of sunlight spilled from the whispering branches, pooling like liquid gold on the windowsill and green grass below.  Far…

Metropolis: A Boston Summer

Kathryn Bilinski

THE TRAIN FROM CONNECTICUT: This train chugs along relentlessly – burning, yearning, returning – completely unaware of the sleepy state of its inhabitants. But today I feel akin to my locomotive as it thunders along the well-beaten path of a…

Racism in Restaurants

Courtney Swain

“I don’t want that table,” my colleague said to me. “They’re Canadians. You can take them if you want.” Before I walked up to the new table to great the customers, I wondered briefly at how she’d instantly judged our…